From Ashes
by wordsmiths
Summary: This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper. / post 4x11 fic; the team tries to rebuild itself from ashes.
1. whimpers

**So I got bored during Spanish class and I started writing this... And it sort of spiraled into something more. And honestly, who wants to do precalc homework? I'm working on this instead.**

**I've been in a sort of funk due to 4x11 for the past week, so I'm writing my own piece of angst (because honestly, there aren't enough).**

**Probably AU for 4x12. I don't know yet.**

**This fic won't be happy. I'm not sure how it'll end yet, but at most, it won't be sad. But definitely not happy (unless something really, really good happens sometime in the next episodes and I'm uplifted or something). I actually plan to finish this, though (but don't I say that every time?).**

**Rated T for mild swearing + violence + general angst. I don't really do the hardcore romance thing.**

**I don't own Person of Interest: if I did, 4x11 wouldn't have ended the same way.**

* * *

**T+0 HOURS... ANALOG INTERFACE**

She can't believe what she's seeing.

Because, no, She would have thought of that. She thought of everything (but a small part of Root knows that the tiny intricacies of human actions make the number of possible outcomes infinite).

But as the scene in front of her plays out in slow motion and she finds herself clutching the bars that separate her from Shaw, she knows the Machine hadn't predicted this outcome. She never would have sacrificed one of her own (would she, to save the world?). She hadn't predicted Samaritan's operatives arriving early; She couldn't have realized Shaw would come (and somehow, a small part of that makes her proud).

Shaw.

ShawShawShawnoshecan'tdothat.

Her blood sprays into the air, her body convulsing from multiple gunshots (and Root wishes she was there in her stead because it was supposed to be her who got hurt during this war, but goddamnit if Shaw wasn't giving them a hell of a fight).

Root screams.

The elevator doors are closing and she's being pulled away and nosheneedstogosaveher.

Statistics are whispered into her head, but she ignores them.

She tries to go back, but her field of vision is becoming smaller and smaller and no Shaw has fallen and she's being held back and she can't get away.

And when the elevator doors clang shut just as Martine points her gun at Shaw, she stops.

She stops holding her emotions back with that barricade that made_ makes_ them so similar. That makes them so perfect for each other (and the memory of that kiss makes its way through her thoughts but she pushes it back down through that wall because that's one emotion she doesn't want to face). Sure, Root puts up a flirty facade most of the time. However, her real emotions are hidden behind a wall in her mind, one she built a long time ago when she was still called Samantha Groves just as a young girl named Sameen Shaw had built one after a car accident-both long ago, but both events that changed their lives forever.

Sure, together they would have been a four-alarm fire in an oil refinery, but both were their own fires as well.

* * *

_PROBABILITY OF ADMIN SURVIVAL: 43.01%_

_PROBABILITY OF PRIMARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 29.58%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 0.000076%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 49.22%_

_PROBABILITY OF ANALOG INTERFACE SURVIVAL: 36.45%_

* * *

**T+0 HOURS... ADMIN**

Harold doesn't know what to do.

Ordinarily, he has some inkling of a plan; some idea of what he could do to salvage a situation. But he knows what it's like to lose someone you love (and he has no doubt that's what Root had for Shaw) and the idea of facing Samantha Groves at the moment scares him. He knows what she was like before she started listening to the Machine, before she became entrenched in this game of life and death. If she blames the Machine for Shaw's death...

But he knows he has to. He has to pull her back, keep her away. Keep her from hurting herself more (after all, once upon a time he had loved a woman named Grace, and he had needed a purpose to pull him back to the world). Keep her sole purpose in life from becoming revenge (after all, he very well knows what happened to Reese after Jessica Arndt was killed, and he would prefer the same didn't happen to Root). Despite their rocky past, he's developed quite a liking for Samantha Groves. She's become part of their team, their family. Just as Shaw had-no, he can't think of Shaw, he has to stay focused on the situation at hand.

Reese's wound is getting worse; Fusco is trying to keep him awake and at least somewhat alert. The elevator rises slowly to an uncertain destination-one where havoc has been wreaked by the war between two gods. Samaritan's operatives could be racing them to the top, or they could have given up. He doesn't know.

And that scares him.

Ordinarily, at this time, Root would chime in with the number of Samaritan operatives who would be waiting outside of their door; she would present them with a plan of action. She, Shaw, and Reese would get ready with their guns.

But they have none of those things now.

Reese is barely breathing.

Shaw is down in that basement, and the probability of her being alive is rapidly decreasing.

Root is in a catatonic state on the floor, silently weeping.

So when the elevator doors open, Harold Finch doesn't know what to expect.

* * *

_PROBABILITY OF ADMIN SURVIVAL: 32.66%_

_PROBABILITY OF PRIMARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 16.43%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 0.0000092%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 37.86%_

_PROBABILITY OF ANALOG INTERFACE SURVIVAL: 25.78%_

* * *

**Was that OOC? I don't know. I've never written angst before (and really, I've only tried writing one other POI story, which I abandoned after two chapters; I think the only character I did justice to in that story was Shaw). Especially Finch. Finch was hard to write, and I'm afraid he came off too flighty. Also I had no idea what he calls Root in his mind-Miss Groves sounded off, but so did Root, to some extent. So I alternated between Samantha Groves and Root.**

**R&amp;R and make this girl very happy (and glad she procrastinated on precalc)?**

**Next update soon, hopefully!**


	2. modulation

**Okay, first things first: I am super-incredibly-sorry that this chapter is, like, two months late (and I don't really have very good reasons for it, other than finals and birthday parties and MUN conferences). **

**This chapter is... well, you'll see. I hope you'll like it!**

**There's plenty of (maybe obscene) language in this chapter; I'm sorry if that's something you're offended by. **

**I don't own Person of Interest.**

* * *

**T+0 HOURS... SECONDARY ASSET**

Shaw is on the floor, and she fucking hates it.

She hates being stared down at by Martine-sure, she admires her skills, but nobody has control over Shaw. Especially not Samaritan's blonde puppet. She hates that she had to see Root screaming as she went out and dodged those bullets. She hates her position at the moment.

Basically, she's really pissed off.

She hears the clang of the elevator doors shut, and for a moment it almost sounds like a gunshot (and she wonders if Root thinks the same thing, because Shaw is most definitely alive right now). Martine stares down at her, and for a moment Shaw thinks that she's going to kill her.

Then she puts one hand to her ear in a gesture Shaw knows means she's talking to Greer or Samaritan or whoever the hell she gets her orders from.

Martine cocks her head and purses her lips. "You know, I really wish I could kill you."

"I do too." The words are a struggle for Shaw _(shot in the iliolumbar artery, she won't stay conscious for long)_, but she relishes every word.

But out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flash of brown hair.

Long, curled brown hair.

Pale skin.

Black leather jacket.

_Oh, no._

* * *

**T+0 HOURS... ANALOG INTERFACE**

"Oh, Shaw," Root mutters. "You really, really need to stop trying to die."

_I had to crawl through fifty yards of air duct._

She takes out the two guns she'd stolen from the car (really, it had been too easy-it was as if Harold wanted her to go down there and save Shaw) and smiles. Deja vu, indeed.

Martine's back is turned, her gun pointed at Shaw. She seems to be... speaking to her.

From her vantage point, Root can see that Shaw is struggling to move her mouth and talk back to Martine. Martine cocks her head and raises her gun so it's pointed at Shaw's head _nosheneedstogosaveShaw._

Root starts walking down the corridor-_shecan'tletherselfbeseen-_just as Martine lowers her gun.

False alarm.

She wants to go back, but Shaw sees her first.

The change in her expression is minute, almost imperceptible. Her eyes narrow slightly, because she will never stop being so _Shaw_, no matter how hurt she is.

The Machine's voice rings in her ear-two of Decima's lackeys are coming down the hall, fast.

Root hears Martine turn around and Shaw's still on the floor and _sheneedstogorightnow._

Guns blazing, Root goes out into battle.

* * *

**T+0 HOURS... SECONDARY ASSET**

_Damn it, Root._

Shaw tries to get up as Martine leaves her. Dimly, she wonders why Martine left her alone at all-Shaw can see the outlines of two people walking down the hallway, and she's pretty sure they aren't John or Fusco or Finch.

_Pass me a gun, you idiot._

With every second, more and more blood leaves her body (_she has about two more minutes before she can't move at all, four before she faints). _She knows she can't handle a gun, but goddamn it. She isn't going to lie here and die, and she's not going to leave Root alone in that firefight.

But for a split second, Root turns around and looks at her. Her eyes say everything that she can't-Shaw knows that she won't survive if she stays here, but she can't leave Root alone.

She can't.

But she can't die on her either.

Root mouths four words, and Shaw knows exactly what she says, even though her vision is getting blurrier.

_Do you trust me?_

And Shaw knows that she does, because she knows Root has... feelings for her (_no matter what, she's not going to admit that Root loves her, and the feelings are reciprocated-she's spent too much time denying her emotions for that. Shaw doesn't feel anything). _

With all her strength (_because it doesn't hurt Shaw-she doesn't feel pain; or at least, that's what she tells herself)_, she manages to lift her body up. The blood from her wounds streaks across the linoleum floor as she drags herself to the elevator.

Her body feels heavier and heavier, and she has to relegate to attempting to move with her entire body on the ground. The elevator doors are open, the grate closed. She releases the latch holding it down _(that had held Root back)_ and pushes it up enough for her body to get through.

(_One more minute before she can't move at all, maybe less if she moves more)._

Through the grate, she can see Root's body fall to the ground.

* * *

_PROBABILITY OF ADMIN SURVIVAL: 42.49%_

_PROBABILITY OF PRIMARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 28.93%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 32.98%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 26.75%_

_PROBABILITY OF ANALOG INTERFACE SURVIVAL: 0%_

_**OBJECTIVES:**  
_

_RESCUE SECONDARY ASSET: COMPLETE_

_PROTECT ALL ASSETS: FAILED_

**_SIMULATION DISCARDED. _**

**_RETURNING TO REAL TIME..._**

* * *

**You thought Root would listen to the Machine? In my opinion, she was probably really pissed about the Machine not saving Shaw, so she wouldn't have listened to her anyhow. Once Shaw's in her line of sight, she looses all semblances of sanity because she can't loose her again. So the situation wasn't even really plausible.**

**Or at least, that's my opinion.**

**At first, this chapter was going to be a continuation of the last one, but I decided writing this was more fun during Spanish, I think. I get a lot of my best ideas during Spanish.**

**Hm.**

**But yeah, I hope you enjoyed it! My medical terminology is probably wrong, just saying. I just searched up an artery that seemed close to where Shaw was shot. **

**Also: I have no idea what from the episodes after If-Then-Else I'm adding in. I might use certain parts of the plot and discard others. I don't know. **

**R&amp;R, maybe?**


	3. silence

**Yes, this chapter is absurdly late.**

**I've... been... busy? But at least I got it finished, which is saying something. I have a vague idea of where I'd like to go from here, so I hope to have another chapter up in a week or two (basically, as soon as I get time).**

**Also, you may notice that the format of this story has changed slightly; I've decided to change a few things, so this will not be entirely based off of Root and Shaw and will have a more complex plot. However, there'll be plenty of Shoot.**

**I don't own Person of Interest; otherwise, I'd be ecstatic. And Root and Shaw would be making pancakes together every morning. (Although that probably wouldn't actually happen for the sake of plot.)**

* * *

**ACCESSING ARCHIVES... MAY 5, 1994**

**BISHOP, TEXAS**

Samantha hates the people in Bishop. They're bigoted, technologically backward idiots who know _nothing _about the real world.

(_And you do?_ a voice inside her head asks. _What are you, with your limited worldview?_)

School, for her, is a chore; it's painfully easy, and she finds that she's out of class more often than in. Her social life is nonexistent; although she occasionally gets invited to parties, the invitations are always accompanied by a certain amount of contempt, and she knows that she's not wanted there.

She misses Hanna. Hanna hadn't _understood_, of course. She had always treated Sam's obsession with computers with a mix of amusement and fascination. However, Hanna had been the only one who had been willing to give Samantha a chance. It had been three years since Hanna had been kidnapped; although Sam had set Trent Russel up to be killed, she still wishes that accusations hadn't been necessary.

But no matter.

She doesn't need to think about a bubbly girl with a mop of curly auburn hair; she has more important things to do.

* * *

**11 WALL STREET  
CAM 13  
15:22:07  
**

Root is being dragged towards the car. Her side hurts; the sticky red blood leaking out is disguised by her clothing, but she knows that sometime soon, Harold or John or Lionel are going to figure it out.

She had halfheartedly shot at the operatives waiting outside the door for them, but Fusco did most of the work. _Good job, Lionel. Maybe you can be useful._

And Finch had taken John's gun and shot it with shaking hands.

_And Shaw was gone._

She doesn't have enough strength left to move herself away from them; all she can do is struggle. Her mind is hazy, in a sense; full of jumbled-up-thoughts and _Shaw_.

Finch, however, is stronger than he looks (_who knew, Harold?_) and manages to drag her away from the building where Samaritan still holds power. When they reach the car, she manages to pull away from his grasp, but he still has a hand on her.

"Please, Harold. Let me go."

"You know I can't do that, Ms. Groves. Trying to get Ms. Shaw back will only put your life in danger as well."

"What does my life matter to you, Harold? Just leave me alone."

And with that, Root wrenches her hand out of his, and staggers away into the streets. She needs to get Shaw back, but she can't let herself be caught; she can't let the Machine be caught. She realizes that, for the first time in her life since she was twelve years old, she doesn't know what to do.

All she can do is ask the Machine one thing:

"Help."

She doesn't respond, and all Root hears is silence.

* * *

**ACCESSING CELL PHONE DATA...**

_...we need to get Ms. Groves back._

_Coco Puffs is gonna do what she wants. She'll come back eventually._

Eventually_ is not now, Detective. I have a feeling that we're going to be in need of Ms. Groves's... skills... soon. And either way, I don't want her to come back with a bullet in her chest._

_Whatever you say, Glasses. But I honestly doubt you'll be able to get her back if she doesn't want to come._

* * *

**ACCESSING BASEMENT CAMERA...**

**IMAGES UNAVAILABLE. **

**SWITCHING TO ELEVATOR...**

* * *

**ELEVATOR CAM 2  
****15:27:18**

"I believe it's time Ms. Shaw is brought to us, Martine."

An old man in a suit walks out of the elevator, assessing the carnage around him. "And get rid of this mess. We can't have anybody finding it."

"Of course, Mr. Greer."

Shaw watches this exchange with half-open eyes; she knows that she must stay awake, but it's so hard when all she wants to do is sleep.

_Stay up. Keep your shit together. You need to fight back._

_Do not give in._

But she does.

Her dreams float into blackness, and the last thing she remembers is wondering if she's dead.

* * *

_PROBABILITY OF ADMIN SURVIVAL: 30.57%_

_PROBABILITY OF PRIMARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 17.92%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 2.21%_

_PROBABILITY OF SECONDARY ASSET SURVIVAL: 34.56%_

_PROBABILITY OF ANALOG INTERFACE SURVIVAL: 13.45%_

* * *

**Please read and review! I really hope to keep chapters coming in more regularly now; I've finally actually drawn up a plot for this story, so writing it out should go fairly quickly. I'll probably bring in some unsolved mysteries from previous seasons...**


End file.
